Eternal Dream
by AccountClosedCept4PMingPhoenix
Summary: There was a time he could have looked at the stars. That man is gone now; but he still has his dreams. Nikola Tesla would be nobody without his dreams.


**S****o for you Sanctuary fans that have come to this story, I'm going to try harder than usual and it'll still be lousy but at least I tried. ****S****o for all those Tesla fans, because it seems like that's the only ****S****anctuary character I have any inspiration to write fanfiction for; Eternal Dream, because I was tired of my other fanfictions. It's set after Awakening. This is a oneshot.**

Eternal Dream

After he had almost died, after he had gotten back what he had lost; it seemed like he was still the same. He could stand looking down at the horrendous gray hole in the earth forever, while the sun set and the stars rose. They had no meaning to him. They were just a lot of bright lights winking in the dark sky, like candle flames about to be extinguished. Like a bright fire dying down to the coals, all it brought was a feeling of loss. There had been a time he could have looked up and gazed at the velvet black sky with the bright white lights seeming like an eternal fire instead of a weak candle flame.

Those days were gone. The days of Oxford; the days of Helen. He could tease her and laugh with her all he liked, but ultimately she was gone. He wondered who it was that had changed; had she changed, or had he?

He knew both of them had changed. Although they still met occasionally, they had gone their separate ways. Or at least, they had tried to go their separate ways. It obviously hadn't worked, because here he was thinking of her again. Here he was standing above a hole in the earth pondering a school boy's crush. He subconsciously dusted the gray soot off of his jacket. He silently wondered what it would have been like if he had died. Would it have gone all black and nothing would be left, or would he have finally figured out what he was missing?

And he knew he was missing something. Deep down in his soul he knew something was wrong. He could remember Helen all he wanted and laugh at the children she associated herself with, but at the end of every day, she was gone. She might have saved his life (and he was glad she had, evidence of her desperation, he told himself), but then she had left again.

She had not stayed to see the sun set behind the clouds, turning them a spectacular pink and red. It made him imagine it was all a wonderful dream, because nothing could just sit there like the sunset, being so beautiful. Beauty was fleeting and never stayed. It was like a red rose that wilted, turning an ugly gray. It was like Helen; she was there, vibrant and beautiful, but then she was gone. She left a cold feeling of loss that he could not dispel.

Before he knew it, he was sitting on the dry grass. It bent and snapped under his weight, the thin shiny brown stalks scattering lightly to the wind. He watched it drift away, caught up in the invisible breeze. Slowly, it came back down to the ground. He could almost hear each strand of grass gently falling to the ground.

Things would never be like they were before. He had changed that forever. As much as he could tell himself he had gotten back what was his, he knew he had lost something, possibly more than he had gained.

He stood up in a hurry, profiled almost as a shadow before the hills, as if he could leave the thoughts behind by moving.

He had made history, and lost love.

He could remember long ago, back in the ancient stone buildings of Oxford, when he and Helen had looked at the stars. Then they had seemed like light to guide his way, now they were meaningless lights.

He didn't have time for reveries. He didn't want to go on 'a trip down memory lane'. He didn't want to remember days when he found wonder in the simplest of things.

Nonetheless, he slipped into his memories.

_The night was warm but he hurried along the firmly set silver stepping stones through the lawns. His shoes made slight scuffing noise as he walked quickly. He smiled up at the velvety sky._

_Suddenly, he stopped short in surprise. None other was sitting underneath the beech tree he watched the stars from other than Helen got up quickly when she saw him, obviously as surprised as he. Her tan skirts had little green pieces of grass stuck to them, no doubt from sitting on slightly damp grass._

_"Nikola," she said in surprise; although she did not sound entirely displeased._

_"Helen," he returned, bowing in mock courtesy._

_She watched as he walked towards her, the old gray stone building which had drawn them here behind him._

_"Come to watch the stars?" she asked, a curl of her blonde hair bouncing slightly._

_"They look even more beautiful tonight," he things hadn't changed._

_She laughed lightly and took his hand, sitting down with him to look at the beautiful night things had changed._

_He could remember the distinctive way the grass smelt, the musty pollen mixed with the wet dew on the spring night. He could remember the way his back pressed against the old beech tree and what the rough bark felt like._

_He remembered his dark eyes, when she was clearly looking elsewhere, stealing aglance at her and her light blonde hair._

_By the end of the night, they had been gently leaning against each other, lying against instead of sitting against the tree._

_Indeed, it had presented quite a problem when they found out they had fallen asleep that way, the sun rising over them._

_Her rustled hair had been pressed ever so slightly against his face as her eyes widened._

_She laughed. The Helen Magnus he knew now would not have laughed. "We have sat down to watch the stars and have ended up watching the sun rise!"_

_"There will be more nights full of stars; and more dawns," he told her, smiling gently._

_"Ah, but none like this."She smirked._

_"You make me dream, Helen dear," he joked._

But it had made him dream. It had made him dream of perhaps he had lost, and what he could maybe find again.

History for love was no fair exchange, and so he would eternally try to get back what he had lost. He almost wished she had let him die in her arms.

He had won this day, he reminded himself.

She had rekindled that dream; and if he had not dreams, he had nothing.

An eternal dream for an eternal man with an eternal love.

It was fitting if nothing else.

**I told you it would be lousy, didn't I? Well, I'm true to my word. ****S****o it's a purposeless little one-shot. Maybe you liked it. Maybe you didn't. But if you did read it, can I please ask you to review? Just a short one? ~Iceshadow~**


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